Sherlock doesn't know everything
by queenfire
Summary: Sherlock knows everything, he can solve every problems and crimes. But what will he do if John gets sick? I hope you read my fanfic. I wait for your reviews! Hope you like it!
1. John doesn't feel very well

**John get's sick**

**Chapter 1**

Sherlock was looking at the news, thinking. Lestrade wanted him in his office after the lunch and he was waiting for John to lunch. But John was closed on the bedroom.

"John?" Sherlock called.

No sound came from the room. Sherlock put the newspaper on the seat and went to the room. The door was closed, so he knocked at it.

"John? Are you there?"

"Yes, Sherlock…"

"Come on, Lestrade is waiting. We need to lunch."

John opened the door.

"I was dressing. Let's go."

They went to a restaurant.

"I think this case will be very simple. The girl was waiting for the boy, but the boy was with the other. This one killed the boy, because he had a girl… you know. Basic, John! Basic."

John wasn't listening.

"John! Are you listening to me?"

John was gazing at Sherlock, but was obvious that he wasn't listening. His eyes were shiny, but it wasn't normal. His face was too pale and he was some kind of afraid.

"John, are you alright?" Sherlock held his friend's wrist.

He was too cold…

"What? Sorry, I wasn't…" John murmured.

"Nothing… I tell you later. Now, are you okay?"

"Oh…yes, I'm fine. I only…"

"No, you're not fine. Your skin it's cold, you're too pale, and you're gazing at me, not listening…"

"I don't want to bother you… We need to go to Lestrade…"

Sherlock was divided: he needed to solve the case, tell Lestrade about the murderers; but John wasn't very well… he couldn't let his friend…

"Sherlock, go to the office. I go home. Okay?"

John could feel Sherlock's dilemma.

"But, what are you feeling?"

John closed his eyes. Sherlock could see his friend nausea. He hated to be sick, that was terrible… it was very rare, by the way. Sherlock was strong and diseases were afraid of him.

"John…"

"It's nothing, Sherlock. I only need to rest. I don't want to cause you trouble… And I'm fine. Trust me, I'm a doctor."

So, if it was too bad John would say? True? John would notice if it was too bad. Sherlock wouldn't need to be so worried.

"So, go home, John. See you later." Sherlock said goodbye, leaving John in the restaurant.

Minutes later, John left the restaurant and went home. The place was near 221B, so it was no need of a taxi. When he get to the room, he felt to the bed. He was exhausted. He wasn't well. He could feel, he was a doctor and he knew. It was a very hard flu. He needed to go to the doctor (he couldn't medicate himself, nor be examined by himself). But he wanted to help Sherlock… he loved to be in the investigations. He was sick for a week or two, he couldn't precise. But it was getting worse and he feared pneumonia.

It could be the cold, the rain… he was a lot of time in the rain some weeks ago. Sherlock was stronger, but he couldn't tell his friend: "Sorry, I can't help you here, because I would be sick." No. No. No!

And he fell asleep.


	2. Sherlock investigates

**Chapter 2**

The time passed… Sherlock went home. He opened the door.

"John?"

Nothing.

Sherlock went to the bedroom. The door was opened. John was lying on the bed. He was sleeping, but he was feverish. The sheets were wet. He was cold, but he was sweating. Sherlock took his wrist. It was so sticky. He put his hand on his front. Cold and pale…

"John…? John… wake up, John…" Sherlock called.

"What…?"

John was dizzy. When he raised his head from the pillow, he saw the room dancing.

"Woo…"

"John, you lied to me… you're not fine…"

"Oh… I'm not well, Sherlock. Sorry…"

"Stop with those "sorry"! Tell me…"

"It's the flu…"

"Only the flu? I think you are worst then that! You're with fever, sweating, pale, cold, hot, dizzy…"

"No, no, no…the flu is like this. Nothing more."

Sherlock sat on the bed, looking at John.

"_Let's see… symptoms: fever, sweat, cold, paleness, bright eyes, nausea. Flu. More than flu. Infection? No external wounds. He barely can stand his head raised…"_

"Do you have an infection?"

"I'm not hurt…"

"Inside?"

"No… hope not…"

"Did you eat anything bad?" Sherlock started remembering all the food they had eaten. It was everything ok.

"No…"

"That is not only a flu, a simple flu."

He started to cough. Sherlock could see his chest raising and falling…raising and falling. He went to the bathroom and sought for a thermometer. "_Where is it?"_

"What are you doing…?" John asked when he stopped coughing.

Sherlock came with the objet in his hand.

"Let's see your temperature, Doctor John Watson."

John couldn't say no. He knew he needed to go the doctor; he was only ashamed to say it.

"Wait… let m…"

"Quite! Let's wait." Sherlock put the thermometer on John's mouth.

They waited some minutes and then Sherlock took it and looked at it.

"So?" John asked, a bit afraid.

"John… I don't know what to do. I'm being honest… I'm a strong man; it is rare to be sick… I don't know how to treat you… you need to go to the doctor."

"Tell me…"

"42º…"

"Oh… but…"

The cough started again. He coughed and coughed…

Sherlock could see his chest climbing again… the cough was no longer a sound of normal coughing. A sizzle was coming… harder and harder. John was getting worse. When the cough stopped, he got paler then in the last minutes.

"John, let's go." Sherlock took his friend's hands.

But John smiled at his consulting detective and fainted.

"John!"

But his friend was senseless. He didn't knew what to do, so he went to the bathroom, picked a bowl with water and a cloth and back to John's bedside. He started to wet John's front with the cloth, calling his friend.

The fever wasn't dropping. Some tremors were catching hold oh John. Sherlock was really worried.

"More than flu… more than flu…" Sherlock put his ear on John's chest, trying to hear something. Sizzles.

"_Pneumonia? How?" _

John was recovering from the faint. He opened his eyes.

"Sher…lock…"

"John, have you pneumonia?"

The tremors were getting worse.

"Sherl…lock… I can't… see… you very… well… I'm dizzy…"

"John, you are very ill. I must get you to the doctor. To the hospital. Where did you get this?"


	3. Trying

**Chapter 3**

John looked at Sherlock scared and tried to run away from the bed.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to vomit." He put his hand in front of the mouth.

But when he tried to get out of the bed, he almost fell. Sherlock bolstered him.

"Stop. To the bed, I will get you a bowl."

"Hurry…up…"

Sherlock ran to the kitchen and grabed a bowl. Seconds later John was vomiting into it.

"Sorry…" he said, miserable.

"Shut up, doc."

When it stopped, John put his head on the pillow and closed his eyes.

"John, we need to go the hospital. You have all the symptoms; you can't stay here…"

"Let me rest Sherlock, let me…"

The paleness was total. John was like a ghost. His eyes were bright; the sweat pearls were falling from his hair. The tremors were increasing; the cough too, as the sizzles.

"Sherlock…"

"How many time, John? Since when are you sick?"

"I…can… not … breathe…"

"John! Answer to me!"

John was fainting again.

"Sorry…"

"No! John! I'm calling an ambulance, John!" Sherlock ran for the mobile phone, calling the ambulance.

"Please, please… I need an ambulance. My friend cannot breathe. I guess its pneumonia, in a very high stage. Hurry up, he can't breathe!" Sherlock was in panic.

"John, listen to me: I've called the doctors, they must be almost here. You are my friend, I need you. You are my partner, you help me solving the problems; you are a doctor. I'm here. You cannot close your eyes. John!"

He was closing his eyes, he was losing his breathe; he was slipping away.

"JOHN!"

Sherlock held his friend on his arms. The tears were climbing his eyes.

"_Not crying, not crying…" _

"John, oh John…"

John was fainting. He was almost not breathing.

When the ambulance came, the paramedics found a crying Sherlock and a fainted John.

"Please, my friend is dying…"

"What happen to your friend?" asked a paramedic woman.

"He couldn't tell me… he told me it was flu. But I could see that couldn't be only flu. He has fever, tremors, nausea, cough, sizzles… pneumonia. He got this a week or two. He was getting a little sick, but it was nothing. He didn't complain… but today he couldn't deny. He fainted… he couldn't breathe…"

"We will get your friend to the hospital. Name."

"Mine?"

"Yes, and his too."

"I'm Sherlock Holmes and…"

"The consulting detective! Oh, and John Watson, the blogger." Said the paramedic.

The other paramedics (more two), carried John to the litter. They put some oxygen bombs and a bottle of serum in the litter hangers. An oxygen mask came into John's face and a needle to his wrist, the serum. They held the litter and down the stairs. Sherlock was behind them.

"But he will survive, will he?" Sherlock asked when the ambulance began to run.

The woman looked Sherlock in the eyes.

"He should have said he was sick after this… he is very sick. You can understand this. He will need a lot of treatment, medicines, rest… Mr. Sherlock Holmes, your friend is in trouble."

Sherlock couldn't stop looking at his friend.

"What can I do for him?"

The paramedic glanced at John.

"The doctors will make everything to save him, be calm down."

…

When they got to the hospital they took the litter and run to the corridors, with Sherlock right behind them. Minutes later Sherlock was barred, the nurses wouldn't let him in.

"Let me pass, let me pass!" he pleaded, but they said no.

And so he was obliged to stay in the waiting room, waiting and thinking about his friend.


	4. Hospital

**Chapter IV**

The time passed. Sherlock was watching the hall way John went. He was getting mad with that waiting. He closed his eyes for an instance.

Sometime later someone was tossing him. He opened his eyes, almost jumping from the seat. It was a nurse.

"Are you Mr. Holmes?"

"Yes, yes, where is John?"

"He is in the room. He is resting, now."

"What have you done to him?"

"The doctor is the one who should answer that question Mr. Holmes. I came here to call you. Please, follow me."

Sherlock raised and followed her through the wall way. Minutes later she stopped in front of a door and knocked. The doctor opened it.

"Here is Mr. Holmes, Dr. Livingstone."

The doctor shook Holmes hand.

"Good night Mr. Holmes, I'm Dr. Livingstone, the pulmonologist of this hospital. The clinic picture of Mr. Watson was a bit complicated, so we, me and my team, needed some time to help him. Now he is establised, but he has pneumonia. He was hatching it for some days, as far as I can know, and because of that he came in a grave state."

Sherlock nodded.

"He didn't tell anything… he didn't want to bother me…"

"The paramedics said you live together. So, what have you done to help your friend?"

"I saw his temperature."

"Haven't you given him any medicine?"

"Sorry, but I am no doctor. I don't know what to do. My friend didn't tell me anything, maybe he was having some pills or something but I didn't know. I called the ambulance. Tell me… how is John?"

The doctor smiled. "He is established now. He is being helped by the air machine, because he was not breathing very much well he came here. We gave him some medicine, injectable. You can see the tubes with it later. We made some blood analyses."

Sherlock sighed. "Oh, thank you. When can I see him?"

"Now. Please, come with me."

Sherlock went with Dr. Livingstone and the nurse. The doctor opened the door room and they entered.

John was laying on the bed, this a lot of tubes coming from his arms, wires from the ECG machine, serum and fan in his face, coming from the air machine. He was sleeping.

Sherlock stood right beside his friend and held his hand.

"Can I wake him?" Sherlock asked.

"You should let him sleep."

"Can I stay with him tonight?"

"You can stay on that sofa" and they left the room, while Sherlock lay on the sofa with a blanket.

When they closed the door, he raised and called John.

"John, John… wake up!"

John started to move and struggled to open his eyes.

"John! I'm so glad to see you!" Sherlock smiled.

John glanced at his friend, to the walls and the room. He reached the fan with a hand and glanced at Sherlock with a question face.

"Do you want me to take that off?" and he didn't wait for the answer, he took it from John's face.

"Sher…lock…what… am I… doin…g… he…re…?"

"I called the ambulance; you were losing your breath and then you fainted. I didn't know what to do and it was the best I could do. They took you here, to the hospital. They treat you well and so on… now we are awake!" he was truly happy.

"Oh…the pneumoni…a…"

"Yes, John. You are really sick, doc!"

"I didn't want…t…o…ca…u…se… pu…t… pu…t…" he started to choke up with sizzles, pointing the fan which was on Sherlock's hand.

"Oh…sorry!" he said, putting the fan on John's face.

He could see John's relieve in his eyes.

"I want to say you that you are a great mate, John." Sherlock held John's hand.

John glanced at him, with confuse eyes.

But the nurse opened the door and said:

"Mr. Sherlock! What are you doing to the patient? Let him rest, please!"

Sherlock spun on his heels and said:

"What a brilliant idea, but the patient was calling me."

"What ? He can't speak with the fan on his face, don't lie to me"

"Not lying, only answering." And a huge smile appeared on his face. "I will stay with you tonight."

And walked to the sofa, falling on it and covering himself with the blanket.

"Sweet dreams John, sweet dreams Miss Lay".

"I didn't tell you my name, Mr. Holmes." said the nurse, confused.

"Goodnight, Miss Lay." And closed his eyes.

Miss Lay walked to John's bed and watched the machines, taking some notes.

"Your friend is a little bit strange, Mr. Watson."

John made an expression that, without the fan, it would let see a huge smile.

"Goodnight Mr. Watson."

When she left, Sherlock opened his eyes and said:

"Oh Watson, what you made me do! Sleeping on a sofa!"


	5. Thank you

**Chapter V**

The next day John woke up. Sherlock was looking at him, sitting on the sofa.

"Hello John! How are you today?"

John pointed to the fan on his face.

"Just a joke John!"

John closed his eyes. He wanted to speak with his friend. He was very pleased to see Sherlock there, looking for him. He didn't expect that reaction from him. He wanted to thank that to Sherlock.

He took the fan. He was feeling better, so being without that for a bit it would cause trouble.

"Sherlock…" his voice had some sizzles "…I want to…to… thank…y…ou."

Sherlock rose from the sofa and approached the bed.

"Don't speak." He said.

John held Sherlock's hand and looked him in his eyes.

"I…ne…ver…never…thought…y…ou…would…would take…care…of…me. I'm glad, Sher…lock…thank…you."

Sherlock didn't know what to say. He was really embarrassed with John's words. He looked at John's hand.

"Sherlock…" John started.

Sherlock said:

"I'm your friend; it was my duty to take care of you. And it was not as easy as it could seem. I didn't know what to do. I'm glad you are better. I…, I feared for you." He looked at John's eyes.

John smiled. He knew that it would be the kindest words he would ever listen from Sherlock. He was happy to be there to hear those words. True words from Sherlock Holmes, the cold detective.

"Thank you…" and he squeezed Sherlock's hand.

Sherlock smiled and so did John, putting the fan again.

"Let's go John, we have work to do!"

John sighed and wondered how he could go with Sherlock in such state. But he was so happy that he smiled, mentally.

**The End (?), because John died later that night.**

**It does not end here! I'm writing a VI chapter, so please, don't get angry with me! =)**


	6. Friends

**Chapter VI**

Later that night, when Sherlock was waiting to visit John, Miss Lay called walked towards him and greeted him.

"How is John?"

Miss Lay glanced at John's room and then to Sherlock.

"I'm sorry to say this to you, but your friend died."

Sherlock couldn't realize it.

"What are you saying?"

"John died minutes ago. His situation got worst; he should have come earlier to the hospital. There have been a complication on his lungs, and the infection spread to all his body." She glanced at her watch. "It was about five minutes ago."

"Do you have certain of his death?" Sherlock didn't want to believe.

"There is a medical team trying to bring him back, but we don't have that hope."

Sherlock was in shock.

"But he was better when he woke up!"

"Mr. Holmes, I'm so sorry… I know that your friend is important to you, I follow the blog, you know… but you must realize… your friend wasn't better this afternoon…"

"I don't realize anything; I want to see my friend."

He pushed Miss Lay and ran to John's room.

"Mr. Holmes! You can't enter in there now!" she shouted, running too.

But Sherlock didn't want to know about that and opened the door. A team of 6 persons was trying to take back John from death. The cardio machine was giving no signal. They were trying hard, that was true, but there should be more to do. One of the doctors looked at Sherlock and said:

"Please, sir, you can't be here."

Miss Lay entered.

"I'm his friend; I will stay with him till the end."

When the doctor went to speak, the cardio machine gave a signal. Bip…bip…bip bip… bip bip…

"John?" Sherlock shouted.

The medical team stared to make lots of movements, bringing some objects and pills and other stuff. Sherlock walked towards the sofa and fell on it.

"This is a dream…" he murmured.

Seconds later the medical team stared to clap hands and smiling. Miss Lay said, happy:

"Mr. Holmes, your friend is alive!"

Sherlock was crying. He rose and approached. John was exhausted, but awake. There was no fan on his mouth.

"John, John… you bastard! You scared me! How dare you to make this to me? You were fine this afternoon, you you… wait! You deceived me! You knew you were dying and you deceived me, talking about thanks and those things! John! How dared you?" he cried.

John smiled. He was pale as the moon and his eyes were shinny and moist. His lips were purple.

"Sherl…ok, I…I…was dying…an..d…I…I wanted to…than…k you… for…being…being my friend." His voice sounded like the wind breeze.

"Oh John…"

"I didn't…didn't meant…to cause you trouble…" tears felt from his eyes.

Sherlock sat down on the bed, pulled John up and hugged him.

"You fool, John, you fool! You scared me so much… don't do that again, don't die again. I care about you, you are my friend and I'm yours."

John cried and hugged Sherlock back.

**The End**

**Hope you like it! I said it wasn't the end, so now I believe all of you will be pleased. And of course, I wouldn't want to kill John =)**

**Please, review! And thanks for the support  
**


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